


Four Times Nacho Didn't Betray Lalo (and One Time He Did)

by Seraphtrevs



Category: Better Call Saul (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence, M/M, THEY COULD HAVE HAD IT ALL, no archive warnings apply for once
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:15:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25265215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seraphtrevs/pseuds/Seraphtrevs
Summary: Four paths Nacho and Lalo could have traveled together, plus the path that led them apart.
Relationships: Eduardo "Lalo" Salamanca/Ignacio "Nacho" Varga
Comments: 12
Kudos: 19
Collections: Lacho Week 2020





	Four Times Nacho Didn't Betray Lalo (and One Time He Did)

**Author's Note:**

> So this fic will be four quick looks at how canon might have gone differently that would have put Nacho and Lalo on the same side, plus what actually happened. Only got the first scenario done for Lacho week, but I'll be adding the others soon!

Five to ten years. That’s how long Tuco will be gone.

It’ll be enough. Nacho knows that the cartel won’t hand him the keys right away—no, they’ll send some old gangster to look things over, make sure there isn’t any trouble. There won’t be. The old school guys love Nacho—he keeps his cool and does as he’s told without complaint, and he knows how to stroke their egos. _Yes, patrón. Good idea, patrón. I’ll take care of it, patrón._ After dealing with Tuco’s insanity, it’ll be downright restful.

Nacho doesn’t expect whoever it is to stick around long. No, he’ll realize he has better things to do than babysit in Albuquerque, especially since he’s got such an excellent lieutenant to see to operations. And once that happens—well, a lot of interesting opportunities will become open to him. Five years from now, and Nacho will have things running so smoothly that Tuco will have a hard time convincing anyone to let him take over again, even if he is a Salamanca.

Not that Nacho wants to be stuck in Albuquerque forever. But it’s a good first step out of cartel peasantry and into royalty.

***

It's Thursday, two weeks after Tuco’s arrest, and Nacho arrives at El Michoacáno to find Arturo sitting in the dining room. Arturo’s not easily rattled, but he seems nervous. Juan, the proprietor, sits to the side, looking dully at the table in front of him. Nacho looks to the back. Someone’s in the kitchen, cooking. Singing, too. Whoever he is, he’s in a good mood.

Nacho turns to Arturo. “Who the fuck is that?” he asks quietly.

“I don’t know, man,” he says, matching Nacho’s whisper. “He just came in like he owns the place, asking for you.”

“You didn’t try to stop him? What, he pull a gun on you?”

Arturo shakes his head. “He didn’t have to. You’ll understand when you meet him. I wouldn’t keep him waiting if I were you.”

Nacho’s heart beats faster. He puts his hand on the gun he has tucked into his waistband and slowly makes his way into the kitchen.

It’s a few moments before the man notices that Nacho’s there—he’s too involved in his cooking. Salt and pepper hair and a moustache. Tall. Good-looking.

At last the man sees him, and a big smile flashes across his face. “Hey! You’re here—right on time!” he says in Spanish. He grabs a plate and sprinkles something on it. “Hold on one second—you are going to love this,” he continues, in English now.

It’s back to Spanish as he babbles more about the food while he puts on the finishing touches. He seems so easy-going, but at the same time, Nacho totally understands what Arturo meant. Nacho remembers going to the zoo once as a kid. There had been a giant ball in the tiger enclosure, and everyone had cooed at how cute it was when the tiger batted it around. But a tiger at play is still a tiger, with sharp teeth and huge claws. Only a moron would forget that a playful tiger could still tear your throat out. And whoever this dude is—he has huge metaphorical claws.

That’s okay, though. Handling these types of men is Nacho’s specialty.

The tiger in question steps into Nacho’s space, way too close, waving the plate under his nose. “Never have you tasted something so delicious.” His eyes sparkle. “I made it just for you.”

Is he flirting? Nacho's willing to play along. He accepts the plate and smirks. “Lucky me.”

The man’s pupils dilate as his grin turns sultry. Definitely flirting. “It’s a special family recipe.”

All at once, it clicks. “The Salamanca family.”

“Bam!” The man winks. “I am Eduardo, but you can call me Lalo. And you must be Varga, no?” His eyes sweep over him, and he wets his lips. Likes what he sees, and wants Nacho to know it. “They told me you were smart. And look! Here you are, and you are.” He turns back to the food, putting together a plate for himself.

Nacho does some ogling of his own, checking out Lalo’s ass. Yeah, he’s got no problem seeing where this goes. “Thanks.”

“Now, I know you must be worried about how things are going to proceed—but I’m not here to change anything. Just want lend a helping hand. I bet it’s been crazy since Tuco was arrested.”

Nacho sets his plate down on the kitchen island. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

Lalo laughs. “Now that, I believe.” He brings his plate to the island too, standing across from Nacho. “My tio Hector was supposed to come up and supervise.” His cheerful mood dips. “But unfortunately, he suffered a stroke just last week.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Nacho says. He hopes he sounds sincere.

“Me too. He’s quite something, my tio—real old school. They don’t make them like they used to.” He shrugs. “But such is life, and we must soldier on. Now, Tio was hellbent on getting Tuco out as quick as possible.” He scratches his chin. “But to be honest, I don’t think it’s a bad thing for Tuco to cool his heels in prison for a little while, yeah?”

Nacho can hardly believe it. Is it a trap? What the fuck is he supposed to say? He takes a bite of his taco to avoid the question. “This is delicious.” He’s not lying—it’s one of the best tacos he’s ever had.

“I told you!” Lalo’s eyes are dancing. He takes a bite of his own taco and moans. “It’s the epazote—just brings it to the next level.” A tortilla crumb sticks to the corner of his lip.

“You got a little something—” Nacho reaches across the island and brushes it away with his thumb. He wonders what that mustache would feel like against his thighs.

Lalo sucks in a breath and lets it out in a chuckle. “And here I was told you were the cautious type.”

“Oh, I am,” he says. “I don’t make a move unless I know I’ll succeed.”

Lalo’s laughter rumbles, like a cat’s purr. “I can’t wait for us to get to know each other better.”

“Me too.” Nacho takes another bite of his taco and chews over this turn of events. Hitching his wagon to Tuco had brought him far, even if it had gone sour in the end. Maybe this Salamanca could take him even farther.

At the very least, the ride will be interesting.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah I know I've used the Lalo-is-a-tiger metaphor about 10 million times, but he is CANONICALLY a cat.


End file.
